Infrared Nights

Pale waxing moonlight illuminated Amy’s golden hair and curvy figure, creating a sensual nighttime silhouette. Rubbing her hands along the shape of her hourglass waist, she loved to feel and enjoy her own beautiful body. Tracing slow circles around her prominent hip bones, tickling herself, Amy teased and delighted her unusually heightened senses.
“Mmmm.” Unashamed, Amy reached down between her legs, rewarded at once with a sudden tantalizing twitch. A strange provocative atmosphere permeated the warm summer evening air, arousing her primal hunger. Rubbing both hands over the smooth fabric of her shorts again, another unmistakable pulse of pleasure throbbed between her legs. Why here, why do this now? Transfixed, a moment of private lust, outside in a wooded cemetery. Aching for relief, ready to lie down and pull off all her clothing, the young woman lost track of all common sense and decency.
No! Amy fought to control herself. This wasn’t the time and certainly not the place. Boredom. That was it. She needed a diversion. Do I dare go off to explore...alone? An irresistible urge to do something dangerous. Taking a walk to cool down is a better idea.... The silent, desolate graveyard beckoned. This temptation she wouldn’t resist.
A last cautious look around—nobody here, not even Jeff. Where did he run off to this time? The way she felt a moment ago she’d have raped the poor guy! He doesn’t even know what he missed... Leaving her belongings behind, without any more hesitation she walked a solitary pathway toward the jagged edge of the dense piney woods.
Drawn, almost summoned here, deep inside the oldest section of the cemetery. Her small, deliberate steps lead Amy back and forth between narrow rows of crackled, time battered tombstones. Dead leaves and gravel crunched underneath her new dark brown leather lace-up sandals.
“Ouch!” Amy’s sudden loud exclamation echoed, bouncing from monument to monument, stabbing deep and hard back into her sensitive eardrums. She reeled from both surprise and the exquisite pain in her foot.
These shoes might be seductive, but they sure weren’t meant for walking! Reaching down to rub her red tipped toes, she dislodged the offending stone and felt almost instant relief. Checking for signs of blood, her little red LED penlight was too dim, no help. That’s one way to kill a sexy mood... Now agitated, walking with a slight limp, her right foot throbbed. She’d be more careful from now on tonight. Moving on again amongst the really old markers, shrouded under a shadowy canopy of tall fragrant pines, the inscriptions on surrounding headstones were completely worn down and illegible. Loved ones lost in time, their identities obscured. Who are all these sleeping souls? Feeling drained yet unsatisfied, Amy settled down on an old rusty iron bench. Massaging her foot, she wiggled her toes around until they felt better.
Wishing she knew what time it was, Amy didn’t like to wear a watch. Her brief respite over, she guessed half an hour had passed since she ventured out on her walk. It was time to head back. Leaving the comfort of her seat, careful steps at first to test her tender toes, a few yards away she paused again, at the foot of a tiny crypt. All choked up and overwhelmed with sadness, such a tiny thing... Clearing her throat, forcing her knees to bend and her legs to move, she continued.
I’m healthy, I’m alive... Fascinated with the finality of death, she reached up to feel the contours of her neck—smooth, warm, pulsing with corporeal life. A fragile, fleeting condition. Blood and vitality now revoked from all these buried bodies, nothing left but empty shells lying underfoot, invisible.
Walking the same gritty pathway back, the lithe twenty four year old woman gazed around her at the incredible variety of stone monuments. Young and old, the rich and poor. All sharing peaceful, eternal slumber beneath luminous speckled granite and incandescent polished marble. Winged cherubs, holy crosses, and immense obelisks straining to reach the sky topped the elegant grave markers.
Time to get back to business. Shaking off the cemetery’s hypnotic and erotic trance, important work demanded Amy’s attention. Heading toward a faint red glowing light several more yards away—her video camera, mounted atop its silver metal tripod, an ambivalent voyeur. It automatically filmed in the darkness, absorbing secrets hidden deep inside the infrared spectrum of light.
Standing next to the camera, Amy felt heaviness in her chest, no doubt due to the baby’s grave. She believed most people move on at their moment of death, even infants. Older, serene spirits, their life journeys fulfilled, pass into white light through heavenly gates. Asking a question aloud, already suspecting the ominous answer. “Do they all rest in peace?”
Something responded. “Oh my.” Sucking in a sharp breath, she rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. Embraced by a sudden unmistakable ghostly chill—goose bumps. Her barely-there tank top and skin-tight shorts left Amy feeling exposed, vulnerable. A blast of icy air hardened her nipples, almost like someone reached out and pinched them.
“Spirits, can you hear me? Are you with me right now?” Stimulated again, like earlier... Her throaty voice sliced through the thick, dead silent air. Pointed questions, directed to the old, decaying tombstones. Toward an invisible dirty old man? Motionless, Amy waited for a response—would anyone answer?
Beep Beep Beep. The video camera signaled.
Darn. Out of tape. What rotten timing! Discouraged, the spirits better not choose this moment to whisper their answers! She wouldn’t hear them anyway, but the audio portion of her recording might pick up EVP’s. Low frequency electronic voice phenomena—words, phrases, and sounds emanating from another realm. Snapping the lens cap shut, frustrated, now Amy had to locate her gear, find another blank tape and start all over.
Are ghosts real? Amy Thompson yearned to know the truth. Passionate, almost obsessed with finding out more about those who don’t move into the light—are they cursed, or do they choose to stay here, on the Earthly plane? Specters, wandering the world, flitting through time’s doorway, appearing to humans for a brief moment then disappearing into another realm.
Life’s greatest mystery...death. Heady stuff for a part time salesgirl! When she wasn’t selling lingerie at the Vixen Boutique, Amy devoured books on ghost hunting and paranormal hot spots. Movies and television specials about the scariest and most spirited places on the planet piqued her curiosity. Two years ago she made a bold decision. She’d take her unusual hobby beyond the armchair.
Fingering the hard black case of the special infrared camera, this great investment was her faithful and auspicious silent partner. All the latest state of the art ghost detection gear filled her large purse and tote bag. Amy delved into the darkness, venturing outside her normal comfort zone.
Quite stimulating—probing and exploring the unknown. Like that unusual sensation a few minutes ago. Reaching up to rub her tender nipples, they still stood at attention.
“Whoever you are, don’t pinch me so hard next time!” Now turning back to the camera, she pushed the eject button to open the door. Time to reload the tape and continue with tonight’s investigation.
Amy flipped her long curly blonde hair back over one shoulder. Bending down, she reached deep into the bottom of her large leather tote bag wondering where’s that last blank videotape? Focused, concentrating on her field work, she jumped when a strong male hand grabbed, and then caressed her derriere.
“Geez!” Whirling around, she felt human flesh—Jeff’s muscular arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” Aiming her small red penlight into his face, Jeff’s boyish grin conveyed his naughty delight. What a devil! “Where did you run off to all this time? I’ve been so lonely.”
“Did I scare you?” Dark, sexy eyes sparkled at her in the moonlight. “Your ass looked so fine in those khaki shorts I couldn’t resist.” He winked.
Amy shook her head. “Why should I be scared? Someone sneaking up and grabbing me! It’s after midnight, in the dark, in the middle of Stonebridge Cemetery...you left me all alone out here. At least I think I’ve been alone.” Do lecherous spirit companions count? She rubbed her nipples again.
Reaching into the overstuffed bag, Amy found the digital tape. Trying not to break her blood red painted nails, she peeled off the cellophane cover. Inserting it into her infrared video camera, closing the compartment, she aimed toward an ornate carved grey headstone.
Jeff stroked her back. “I’m sorry, I went to the car for a soda, and I fell asleep...” He hoped she wasn’t angry. “Did you know it’s already twelve thirty?” Glancing at his luminous timepiece, sending her a not so subtle hint, he stood nearby, watching.
Ignoring him, pulling her hair out of the way again, her hazel eyes peered through the small viewfinder. Power on, auto focus already set, her slender index finger reached out to push the red record button.
“It’s now August fourteenth, twelve thirty in the morning, Stonebridge Cemetery.” Reading the date, time of night and location out loud—something she learned from the ghost hunting guide books. Rather than writing down everything in the dark, it was handy for taking notes when she watched all the tapes at home. Each search was unique. Two hours worth of footage seemed adequate for this evening’s spirit hunt.
Frowning, she noticed the camera wasn’t level. “This isn’t quite right.” Squinting at the image, she twisted the tripod’s knobs, leveling the pointed metal feet. No gravel here—she was straddling a medium sized earthen mound carpeted with soft green turf. Only a few rows away from the woods and that treacherous gravel path, the lawn here seemed full and lush—how strange!
“It’s weird, isn’t it? The grass on top of these graves is nice and green, not dead like over there.” Amy always noticed the landscape. Drinking in nocturnal sights, she also paid close attention to unusual sounds and aromas. Her body’s vast system of sensitive nerves was an invaluable tool, a powerful indicator of spirit energy. Their souls moved around and sometimes right through her—lingering and communicating. Feeling that brisk air and squeeze a few moments ago, no doubt about it—spirits were active tonight!
“I love Stonebridge, don’t you?” Compelled by considerable evidence, she made repeated trips to this same location. Some visits even yielded startling images of moving orbs and mysterious mist
“Whatever, babe.” Jeff yawned, wishing he was still back in the car. Tired, he wanted to leave.
“Do you think it’s true that some graveyards are spirit portals?” Amy once read that modern cemeteries often overlapped old potter’s fields, or even ancient Indian burial grounds. Swirling vortexes of light caught on film might represent stairways into different dimensions. Were they standing at a doorway into heaven.
Amy’s skin prickled with goose bumps again. “I feel you, I want you—come on, show yourself!” Her ultimate dream—a full-bodied apparition on tape. She came to Stonebridge over and over again, hoping... Would this be the night? Would a figure appear?
“How about if I show you something?” Jeff’s finger tapped Amy’s shoulder. She jumped.
Heart pounding like a hammer, Amy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Sometimes Jeff was such a bad boy, teasing and scaring her like that! Not usually frightened, the dark atmosphere of this remote wooded locale did seem like the perfect setting for a spooky movie, especially tonight. Amy made a face at Jeff. He grinned.